


Temptation

by edgehog



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Church Sex, M/M, Priest Kink, Public Blow Jobs, groovin on the cassock, pure sin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 11:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12652905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgehog/pseuds/edgehog
Summary: modern AU hamburr with a priest and a sinner and some temptation right out there in the open.and Peggy."It's like ... I spent my youth looking for something and not finding it, and chasing after it anyway. Maybe I can't let go of things. I don't know. But I know enough to hit my knees and thank god when I'm given a gift."





	Temptation

"Excuse me."

Burr looked up.

He'd been arranging the detritus of the church service more neatly on its allotted shelves -- the altar boys were well-meaning (some of them) but they were scatterbrained (most of them) and very young (all of them).

He hadn't realized anyone was still here.

The speaker was young, too -- he couldn't be much past adulthood. His hair was lanky and falling into his face, and his chin had a lift that spoke ego and confidence, and his nose was --

Burr cleared his throat. "Can I help with something?"

"You're the pastor here."

"Priest," said mild Burr, mildly, "but yes. The idea is much the same."

"I always did like me a cassock. What do you all wear beneath it? Nevermind, nevermind," and he was stepping forward now, extending his hand, taking Burr's and pumping it: "Alex Hamilton. Excellent to meet you."

Burr didn't bother to agree. He could feel his plastered-on "I am at work" smile slipping off his face. "Can I help you with something?"

"I had some questions, sir. If that's all right. I wanted to ask you some questions about your profession."

The church was empty of people; their voices projected clearly across. Burr wondered if his secretary had gone home yet for the day without quite letting himself wonder why he was wondering, and he dithered. "I'm not sure that now is the best time for ..."

"Just a few questions? Just a few minutes of your time. I was here for the service, you know," and Hamilton's voice changed from wheedling to warm -- a neat trick. "Your sermon was -- it moved me."

"Really," said Burr. He clasped his hands in front of his waist. "I didn't notice you. What part moved you most especially?"

"The part," Hamilton said, and he moved a fraction of an inch closer, "about our Lord and Savior."

Even a young priest had plenty of time to familiarize himself with the glib tongue of a liar and a cheat -- but he found himself smiling. "Annunciation is the celebration of our Mother Mary, and her knowing and willing sacrifice of personal self to a greater cause, Mr Hamilton."

A beat. "Nothing at all about Jesus?" A smile spread out over his mouth.

Burr had to bite his cheeks to keep from smiling back. "Not as such."

"Pity."

"You -- you said you have questions --"

"Ah. Yes. Right. I do. Firstly, is it true what they say about priests being celibate?"

"It's true."

"So -- you have never?"

Burr shook his head, aping solemnity. "Not once."

Hamilton edged closer again, and pretended he hadn't done any such thing by leaning on the altar. "Don't you miss it?"

"Don't touch that, please. And no, how could I miss something I've never had?"

"There are fantasies. Everyone has fantasies."

"I don't," he snapped. "My grandfather was a minister; he raised me to follow in his footsteps --"

Hamilton straightened up, leaving the altar-cloth crooked. "He wasn't celibate, then."

"No. He was only a minister. But," and it was ridiculous, how his breath went out when Alex got near, how it became hard to breathe, "but I am."

Alex smiled again; he wandered away to finger the candelabra on the windowsill. "Good acoustics in here. I noticed that earlier. Alright. Next question. Do you actually believe in all this stuff?"

"Do I -- what? All what stuff?" He heard his own voice and cleared his throat. "In the church?"

"Yeah. Jesus and Mary," and he gestured to the looming statues, nestled careful in their individual niches, "incense and hymns and reading the Bible and God and the Holy Ghost and all the saints. All that."

"I'm a  _priest_."

"That doesn't mean anything." Alex reached up but did not quite touch the ornate scroll-work at the base of the enormous crucifix. "It might be just a job for you."

"Are you ... are you a student at the college? Is this for a school project?"

"Nope. Not a student. Just curious about you and your ... your personal journey."

"I don't see that I have the time for --"

"Oh, come on, Aaron Burr." And he was coming forward again, a now-familiar crooked lilt to his mouth, but this time he didn't stop until they were close enough to touch -- close enough to feel his breath.

"How did you know my name?"

"It's in the bulletin. Why won't you tell me? What are you afraid of? Worried that I'll talk? Don't be. I won't tell anyone about your atheism."

Burr shook his head. "I am not atheist."

"Lapse of faith, then. A faltering."

"Everyone falters," Burr said: it sounded even to his own ears like an automatic reply. "Next question, Hamilton. And then I really must ask you to leave."

The smiles and brash swagger had all left Alex now; he said only "Fine. One last question. Will you let me kiss you?"

"What?" Burr started, but before he finished the word, Alex's mouth was over his -- and it was like sunlight and water and springtime and he felt himself stirring and (god save him) he knew it was wrong -- and  _because_  it was wrong, because he was going to stop it at once and never  _never_  do it again, he kissed back.

They separated, after a long moment. Alex's eyes were wide, the pupils darkly flared. "Okay. One more question: Why the hell are you a priest?"

Burr's brain seemed to have stopped working; he just stared. Alex moved to kiss him again. Burr side-stepped.

Alex smiled. "You kiss like an angel, I think."

"Why are you here? Really."

"Not for a damn school paper, that's for sure."

"Tell me, Alexander. Tell me now. Are you just messing with me?"

"No! No. Well. Yes." He tucked his hair back behind his ears. "Nothing serious. I wanted to -- it was sort of a bucket list thing, you know? Kiss a priest? You're the prettiest priest in the whole city." Burr was staring, glaring, unmoved by this, so Hamilton added: "You're the prettiest by a  _long_  shot. What, didn't you enjoy yourself? Don't you want more?"  He was near again; he did not touch.

Even the quick glance he gave from beneath his eyelashes was enough to make Burr burn. Yes, he'd enjoyed it. He wanted more -- obviously. But he was used to self-denial. "No more. Not now. Not ever."

"One more time and I'll leave you alone." He was lying; his facile mouth curved upward. "Tell me a bit more, would you? Was that your first kiss?"

"What? No. I'm chaste, not  _perfect_.   I had a girlfriend in school -- in seminary, actually. Bit frowned upon.  We did a lot of -- kissing, and such. She was beautiful. Brilliant, too. Studying to be a lawyer."

"A brilliant, beautiful woman was with  _you_?"

"I'm brilliant, too," said Burr, annoyed.

"We'll argue that one out later. How did you avoid the big D? D for  _dicking_ , you know. Like on Sesame Street."

"She turned out to be asexual; that helped a lot. Are you going to leave now? I do have things to do."

"No, you don't. But I'll leave. On one condition -- that you don't kiss me back."

Burr tried to argue and Alex was kissing him again and, god god god Burr couldn't help himself: he kissed back.

Alex laughed at him. "Well, you conceded fast --"

"Best three out of five." 

Another kiss, longer and slower. And this time Burr would have made it, he thought, except it was his last chance to kiss Alex and still win at this idiotic game -- so he returned it with enough enthusiasm that Alex clutched on to him afterwards. "Try again," said Burr: and this time he stood passive, until shivering he pulled away. "Alright. Alright. That was one on the you-leave-me-alone side."

"And you're still down two. Can we make it equal?" Alex kissed him and kissed him and kissed him until Burr gasped.

"You cheat! It's supposed to be one kiss." He was breathing hard, he noticed dimly, and Alex had him pressed against the rail again, the midpoint of their bodies hard together, and Burr didn't mind at all.

Alex spoke in a husky voice, dropped low with interest, and Burr didn't mind that either. "We didn't stipulate how many kisses, or -- or where."

" _Once more,_ Alexander. And then you leave."

"Spoilsport." But there was a certain respect to his expression now, wasn't there?  And certainly there was no mockery in his mouth -- his broad, perfect mouth, sweet and soft and tender; he'd expected haste and pressure and force from this last attempt but Alex was holding his face and kissing him so gently, opening his mouth against Burr's when Burr gave an involuntary movement forward of his hips, and he expected teasing about that too but Alex only cleared his throat and tilted Burr's chin to reach the stretch of skin beneath his ear, biting ever so gently --

It had been too long, was the problem. He'd forgotten what it felt like to want someone. He hadn't expected to react this way, he hadn't expected Alexander to know where he wanted it better than he did himself, the tiny licks along his closed lips had him opening in response and Alex let out a soft huff of air, he'd liked that, and Burr wanted to make him happy -- he wanted to surprise him --

Experimentally he touched along Alex's shirt, stroking his hands down both sides of his waist. A little movement, a little change in breath: very nice. His body was nice, too -- firm and warm, even beneath the fabric. So warm. 

" _Burr,_ " said Alex; and he shivered and sighed.

"Tempter.  _Temptation._ Might as well be the devil. Good Heavens, that's nice."

"You swear like a little old  lady. Do you talk that way in bed, too? 'My stars!'"

Burr suppressed a laugh; he suppressed the urge to say  _Why don't we find out?_  Alex was so hard against his own hardness and it was all so inappropriate -- to say the least. "Most old ladies in my parish swear like sailors."

"Another one of my childish ideals, gone forever." Alex cleared his throat, untangled their legs -- Burr winced as the glorious pressure was taken away. "It's been lovely, Father -- and doesn't that just add a whole 'nother level to this whole thing, calling you  _Father?_  Nevermind. I don't like it. Bad level. Let's ignore it.  I'm leaving."

"What?"  _No,_  he wanted to say, and  _stay._  "Why?"

"I got what I wanted, didn't I? Another thing off the list. And you don't want me. Or you do want me, but you're a priest so you're not really gonna do anything about it, and that's way less insulting but way more  _frustrating,_ if you get my drift? And those robes of yours hide a lot but I can feel that you do get me on this, Aaron Burr. So I'm going to leave while I can still walk properly. And then I'll go find some pretty thing with an eager mouth to help me out, maybe she'll get to do a little work on her knees --"

"Don't talk like that."

Alex sneered. It was worse than a slap in the face. "Because we're in a church? Good try. I could have bent you over the rail a moment ago and you wouldn't have said anything about it but  _Yes Please Sir._ "

"Please," said Burr; he was looking at Alex's feet -- his shoes -- innocuous against the formalized carpeting of the dais. Easier to talk when he couldn't meet those dark eyes. "Wait." He unpeeled himself from the railing -- it was difficult to walk -- and put a hand on Alex's cheek. "Please, sir," he said, dragging out the word -- and Alex shut his eyes -- and Burr felt suddenly in charge of the situation again. So he kissed him. ( _Best three out of five._ Well.)  He did it as convincingly as he knew how, moving his mouth against Alex's mouth like he'd waited years to do it.

When they separated this time Alex had his hands gripping Burr by the cassock.  "You never answered my first question."

Burr shook his head. "What question was that?"

"What do you wear under those things? ... oh, nevermind. I'll figure it out myself. You hold still." And he dropped to the floor.

"Jesus," said Burr.

"Save your praise for the resurrection." He was reaching up beneath, running a hand up the inside of Burr's leg, eyebrow raised. "Trousers?"

"Usually. Sometimes in summer it gets -- it gets quite warm, and then --"

"Full commando? Saucy. I'll go to church more often." He palmed Burr, curving his hand overtop. "I'm really going to do this, you know."

Burr managed a dry laugh. "I certainly hope so."

"You are so beautiful," said Alex, and stopped delaying.  He did not shut his eyes or look upwards; he seemed unaware of anything but his hands and his mouth, even the affect he had, even though that affect was pulling at his hair and moving ever so slightly forward, all unconscious of it. So he moved off and returned, pulling gently, licking up and circling the ridge, commenting "I thought all you priest types are uncut?"

"You're thinking of Jews," Burr managed. "And they are cut. So no, I don't know what you're thinking of. I don't know what I'm thinking of. Alex -- Alex --"

A hum, and a smile, and he pressed deeper, swallowed, and Burr knotted his hands in that glorious hair and came with a thick moan.

Alex settled back and smiled up at him. 

Burr covered himself, clumsily .

It wasn't true, what he'd said to Alex. He wasn't sure of the Church. He wasn't sure of anything -- not God nor Jesus nor Mary and the saints. But he wanted that security; he wanted the ritual of confession, and forgiveness, and song and incense and something more than himself, something higher than himself. To be lost.  He'd knelt on a bare floor a hundred times searching and what did it do, what did it ever do but give him bruises?

"You're beautiful," he said to Alex.

"Thanks," said Alexander, the confident.

Burr reached out; he unbuckled and unbuttoned and unzippered -- goodness, there were a lot of layers -- and Alex stood up, saying "You don't want to do this?" with a new uncertainty in his voice, but Burr wanted to do it, he very much did; he pressed Alex against the altar and kissed him until he was dizzy with kisses; the length of Alex was hard and present between them. "Up," said Burr, and when his lover didn't move, just blinking at him, he bent and lifted him to sit on the marble altar.

Alex squealed; the noise rang out like vesper bells. "That's cold as hell!"

"Shut up."

"My ass is bare, Burr."

"Shut up, Hamilton, or I'll make you shut up."

It was the wrong thing to say. Alex's eyes glinted and he started rambling on about nonsense until Burr cut it off with another kiss and a hand on him, pulling roughly; he liked it, he liked how Alex's mouth opened into a gasp under his mouth and how his hips rocked forward, how he laughed and ran his hand around Burr's neck and pressed him closer for another kiss while Burr rubbed his thumb up and down, circling with fingers, clenching and loosening alternatively, paying attention to Alex's breath against him and his body heat and his shivers, bringing him fast to the edge and then dropping off, working at him with the lightest of touches so that Alex actually growled and then keened a little, licking and biting at the parts of Burr he could reach: mouth, jaw, neck and ear. His eyes were unfocused and his cheeks were flushed and he looked so beautiful -- so goddamn perfect. He kissed him again and again and Alex kissed him back, clenching his legs around Burr's waist; he was saying things that he'd surely regret later so Burr tried not to listen and even succeeded, now and then. 

"I want you," he said, "I want you -- I want you inside me -- or let me go inside, god you must be so  _hot_  inside --"

"Later," said Burr, and meant it. "For now, for now, Alex, be still."

Amazing: Alex obeyed.  He didn't drop his hand away from Burr's neck and he didn't lose the drowsy, intense absence in his face and he didn't let Burr move away by more than the inch or so it took for him to gain space to start again slowly playing and teasing, drawing wetness down and spiraling back up; Alex let out a moan and shuddered and said "God, I'm so close, I'm so close."

Burr wanted to do everything. He hadn't felt like this since he was a child -- giddy, assured, in love with the possibility of another person; in love with his own. "Let me take you, then," he said: and Alex let go, let him go to his knees, let him drop kisses alongside the length, let him taste a bit -- he felt a trembling hand on his head, not directing or forcing but touching him lightly, closing the circle of their motion. It was enough. Burr licked his lips and took him inside his own mouth.

Alex said: "Burr" -- sounding strangled -- and he came.

It was revolting. It was a miracle. Alex was so human -- the both of them were so human -- one on his knees, swallowing and trying not to choke, the other trembling and speaking and asking if Burr was all right, he was moving off the altar and bringing Burr's face up for a hard kiss and surely, this is what their mouths were made for -- for this full range of humanity: kissing and blowing and speaking as Alex was now, saying in a strange voice: "Burr -- you -- I didn't think -- I didn't expect --"

Burr hadn't expected any of that, either. He didn't expect this feeling of understanding -- to finally connect with what he'd searched for so often -- "Alex. Tell me you're happy."

Alex laughed. "I am so happy. I haven't energy, right now, to be anything except happy. But you didn't have to do that."

How could he explain? But they were still so close and Burr had to speak; he owed him that much. "It's like ... I spent my youth looking for something and not finding it, and chasing after it anyway. Maybe I can't let go of things. I don't know. But Alex, I know enough to hit my knees and thank god when I'm given a gift."

 

*

 

"Father Burr?"

"Hmm?" He was going through his records; he didn't look up. "Can I help you, Peggy?"

She shut the door.

Burr did look up, now.

Her face was resolute. " I wanted to remind you, sir, that the nave has a camera facing outwards -- we installed it last year, after some thefts, remember? It shows the altar pretty clearly."

"Uh," said Burr. His mouth was suddenly very dry.

"I also wanted to let you know, just as a budgeting item, that we need new batteries in that camera. It went on the blink one day last week. Right after the service. Stayed that way all afternoon."

"Did it."

"And -- since we're speaking of budgets -- I haven't had a raise in three years. Sir."

"We'll certainly rectify that mistake," he said, and cleared his throat. "Was there anything else, Ms Schuyler?"

"Not at all. Except it's none of my business what you do in your spare time -- and I'm pretty sure God feels the same way."  She smiled at him, nodded, and left the room.


End file.
